Lucky for me it was right after Cancellara made is first move, where him and Boonen took of. For a large diesel engine of TT man, Cancellara sure was able to make it look easy getting up those steep climbs (on his final move with 15 km to go, he didn't even get out of the saddle). Conversely, Boom Boom Boonen looked like a mortal the way he was hunched over, pushing and pulling for every ounce of strenth he had in his body to be transfered to his wheels. Let's face it, the bulk of us who provide this fine armchair analysis would be doing more than just "struggling' to even make it over one of these climbs, so both those two killed it on the climbs, regardless of how they looked doing it. Although I did feel it was a perfect reflection of the countries they represent. Switzerland always neutral and smooth, never getting caught up in all the hustle and bustle of the moment, just working hard and looking good at it. Belgium on the other hand, where they just work through all the tough conditions regardless, don't complain, just suffer through it and get it done, it doesnt have to look pretty. I caught up on the rest through Jonny's post over at DC this a.m. Here are my favorite pictures from the race (courtesy of BKW).
At some point in my life, this is where I want to be in early April.
Big props to Millar for having the balls to try to bridge up, its something Boy George never seems to try.
Second religious sporting experience was watching the Yankees Red Sox opener with my sister. Few things get me as excited as having the chance to make fun of people from New England for no logical reason whatsoever. Highlights included Steven Tyler singing "God Bless America" (or some other patriotic song) during the seventh inning stretch, with some floosy on his arm who looked like he picked her up at a bar across the street from Fenway before the game. Big thanks to all you aging rock stars with debatable substance abuse problems for thinking you are still important, it provides the rest of us with endless amounts of comedy. Not to be outdone, Neil Diamond came out the next inning to sing Sweet Caroline (a Fenway staple during the seventh inning stretch). It looks like Neil had gotten his hands on Steven's extra drugs, and couldn't remember the words to his own song, which may have been the highlight of the evening. In the end, the Yankess screwed the pooch, and my sister was not pleased about it. I on the other hand finished the vodka which was in her freezer, which she claimed was over two years old. Frankly, I can't think of a better way to cap off Easter Sunday, than by polishing off an old bottle of hooch.